


i'm cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms

by dnbroughs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Charles is a Pureblood, Charles is an Occlumens, Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is a Muggleborn, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gryffindor Erik, Hanukkah, Hurt Charles, Idiots in Love, Kurt is a piece of shit, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Poor Charles, Ravenclaw Charles, mentions of abuse, you'll need fillings after this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 14:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18551833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnbroughs/pseuds/dnbroughs
Summary: It was only going to be a few days, they would be back by each other’s sides way before New Year’s Day. Yet despite this, Erik felt like the five days they spent apart were going to last forever.





	i'm cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> from the tumblr prompt: 'Hogwarts, Christmas and cuddles! xD'  
> tw for mentions of violence/abuse. i've also taken some liberties with occlumency here but it's all for the good of the plot.

Christmas was always a less than extraordinary affair for Erik. Sure, the castle became increasingly magical towards the end of December- as if it wasn’t magical enough- with snow blanketing the grounds in an icy expanse of white, and the Christmas tree in the Great Hall could easily qualify as the eighth wonder of the world, what with its colour changing baubles and ice skating snowmen and wee ornamental mice in scarves that sang carol upon carol.

Of course, there was a menorah, dutifully placed in a secluded corner of the Gryffindor common room, set up for him, and a small bag of chocolate coins appeared on his bedside table every morning for the duration of Hanukkah. During his first three years at Hogwarts, he didn’t need it, seeing as he went home to celebrate with his parents. But his parents weren’t there anymore, and with them seemed to go Erik’s want to partake in anything that reminded him of them, and that included lighting the Menorah. 

He didn’t, for the first year after they died, but it was Charles who encouraged him to do it, who held his hand as he mumbled his way through the blessings, covering Erik’s trembling hands with his own to hold the Shamash steady, and guiding them when Erik’s vision became too blurred to see what he was doing. Charles held him after that, shushing him and running a hand through his hair as they watched the flames flicker and burn, and he did so until Erik could light all eight candles without tears stopping him, and he still did even then.

But Charles wasn’t here, so Erik didn’t really feel the need. Still, Charles had asked him to carry on without him, so he did. It didn’t feel the same though, without arms there to hold him afterward. But that was a dangerous train of thought, one Erik didn’t want to tread, fuelled by the cold and a Charles shaped hole in his life.

_ Pull yourself together, Lehnsherr,  _ he thought to himself, burrowing deeper into his armchair with a scowl.  _ You’re eighteen years of bloody age, and he’s only been gone two days. Man the fuck up. _

Usually, his moping was completely unwarranted, and it was usually Charles who told him so, but this was Erik’s first Christmas without him, so he allowed himself to feel just a little bit sorry for himself. Or maybe a lot sorry. Either way, he was miserable to say the least.

“Mother wants me back this Christmas.” Charles had sighed to Erik over the chessboard, before moving his knight to E4, watching it swing it’s minute porcelain sword into the arm of Erik’s pawn. “Merlin knows why. And Raven’s spending the holidays with an aunt back in America, so I already know it’ll be a bore.”

Erik ignored the sharp tug of disappointment in his chest. “Well, whatever Sharon wants.”

Charles snorted, firing a heating charm at his mug of tea before taking a hearty gulp. “I don’t suppose there’s any convincing you to tag along then?”

And God, the look in his eyes almost compelled Erik to yell  _ yes, yes anything you want, anything at all,  _ but Erik quickly swallowed it down, burying it down along all the other feelings he had regarding Charles that he didn’t want to think about. “You and I both know I wouldn’t be welcome, Charles.”

Sharon and Kurt Marko’s feelings towards Muggleborns was no secret to either of them.

“Besides,” he continued, trying to soothe Charles’s upset with a smile he hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Who else is going to tell you how pissed Howlett gets on Christmas day?”   
The mention of their favourite Christmas tradition managed to get a hint of a smile back on Charles’s face, so Erik counted it as a victory. It was only going to be a few days, they would be back by each other’s sides way before New Year’s Day. Yet despite this, Erik felt like the five days they spent apart were going to last forever.

That’s why, after he had shuffled the last of the first years to bed and lit the Menorah, Erik had finally fallen asleep in his usual arm chair, lamenting the eternity between Christmas Eve and Boxing Day.

That was, until, the dull thud of the common room door opening awoke him from his slumber with a jerk.

Erik grabbed his wand from the arm of the chair, holding it in a white knuckled grip as he watched the darkened figure lug something through the door, and for one delirious moment Erik thought Father Christmas had appeared to leave presents under the common room tree, (and he didn’t find himself above Stupefying Santa into Easter if he had to) until the figure came creeping towards Erik on trembling legs, finally illuminated in the light of the dying fire, until Erik could see his face-

“Charles?” he asked, his suspended disbelief quickly turning to relief before he caught a glimpse of his wet blue eyes, the darkening bruise under one eye, the snow melting in his hair and saturating his favourite cardigan and Ravenclaw scarf-

Erik had just enough time to catch him before he fell to the floor.

“Charles, Charles what happened? Talk to me-”

“Took the train to Hogsmeade and walked the rest of the way.” He whispered, his voice hoarse and thick, and only now could Erik see the drying track of tears staining Charles’s ruddy cheeks in the glow of the fire. “I couldn’t stay there Erik, now with him, not after what he said about you-”

“Charles,” Erik pleaded, trying to ignore the anger filling his veins at the sight of the purpling bruise marring Charles’s pale skin. “Charles you need to tell me what happened. Please, Charles.”

Fingers brushed his temple in a silent invitation. Erik wrapped his hands around Charles’s wrist, keeping his fingers there in a silent agreement and the Occlumens showed him the memory in answer. Erik’s head was suddenly filled with a whirlpool of pain and resigned despondency as Kurt’s words echoed through the recesses of his brain,  _ love him, the Mudblood, good for nothing, the Muggleborn’s whore, this’ll show you,  _ saw Sharon’s blank expression as a punch landed, and then a kick, and then another and-

And then Erik came crashing back to the present as Charles started to cry, and whatever Erik felt then, towards Kurt, towards Sharon, it didn’t matter, because Charles needed him, and Charles- Charles  _ loved  _ him? 

“Do you?” Erik asked, his voice small as he kept his grip on Charles, feeling himself like he was going to fall over at any moment. “Do you love me?”   
“Erik-”

“Do you love me?” He asked again, ignoring the way his voice broke as he cupped Charles’s face in his hands, gently wiping away the tears that fell with this thumb, gently stroking around the edge of his bruise.

Erik could just about make out the nod under his hands. And then Erik was kissing him.

Charles’s lips were cold and salty under his but it didn’t stop him from kissing him like he was a dying man in need of oxygen. Charles’s hair was damp but it didn’t stop him from winding a hand in it and tugging Charles impossibly closer. Charles was hurt, Charles had trekked all the way from Westchester, Charles was covered in snow and was probably in need of a hot shower, but it didn’t stop him from kissing back with fervour, didn’t stop him from clutching Erik, from shifting closer until he was almost in the Gryffindor’s lap. This is where Charles belonged, this is where Charles was safe. This is where Charles was the most loved.

Erik all but seemed to confirm this as they lay tangled on the sofa, Charles now dry and warm, drowning in Erik’s Quidditch jumper, limbs tangled and fingers wandering, inquisitive and excited at the prospect of having the opportunity to do so as often as they liked.

“Say it again.” Charles said, looking up at Erik, biting his lip to try and dampen his grin.

Erik pressed a peck to where the skin wat trapped between Charles’s teeth, pulling away with a smile to match. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He said almost reverently between kissed to Charles’s nose, eyelids, and chin, just to get the smaller boy to squirm and giggle, the sound warming Erik from the inside.

Charles shifted closer whispering his response into the crook of Erik’s neck, a secret between just the two of them and the glowing embers of the fire.

Somewhere behind them on a beaten sideboard, a gilded carriage clock softly chimed twelve.

Shifting in his hold, Charles looked up through his lashes at his boyfriend (his  _ boyfriend! _ ) and grinned, boyish and gleeful. “Merry Christmas, Erik.”

Erik leant their foreheads together, brushing a kiss against Charles’s nose. “Merry Christmas, Charles.”

From then on, as long as he was with Charles, Christmas finally meant something to Erik, and he found that he really didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr @ charlesxavirs !


End file.
